⪧ We left our life in New York City to make a new one in Provence ⪦

March 12, 2018

Spring Harvest

A simple moment out in the yard - a spring harvest, with small baskets. The lawn is littered with little white daisies and lavender blooms. Colette and Romy take full advantage and give the flowers the devotion their wonder deserves. This is why we moved here. I follow them around outside and smile, comparing their current pastoral existence to the sidewalk chalking they used to do in front of our Harlem townhouse (breathing in the fumes of the cars and fire tanks whizzing by).

March 7, 2018

The Calanque de Sugiton

Xavier and I traced another bit of the coast between Marseille and Cassis today, to the Calanque de Sugiton. A wonderland, this series of sea cliffs called 'les calanques.' The region is gripping for me. I go back again and again and each time feel jolted by the spectacle. Wild, unbelievable color and scale. Au pays des merveilles.

February 25, 2018

The Camargue

I like to call it "going on safari" and I think it might qualify as such, when catching sight of wild flamingos is part of the day. On a February Sunday, Colette, Romy and I climbed into the car and headed to the Camargue. Not far, just about an hour away, between Arles and the Mediterranean Sea, where marshy plains reign. We really did feel as if we had found a new land. The Camargue is famous not only for its flocks of flamingos, but also for wild white horses and its bulls. We didn't know exactly where we were going, or which path to take, but I like it that way. We got out and walked along a salt flat and saw flocks of flamingos flying in formation - magnificent in flight. We counted fourteen together with some other French kids.

Romy made sure her baby had a good view of the flamingos

Then we made our way to a beach. I sort of thought the adventure was over, but another one unfolded there. Colette forthwith ran to the sand just on the edge of the water and started her work creating Egyptian pyramids. Romy had fallen asleep in the car and I gently carried her out to the shore and sat in the sand with her in my arms. Her hand fell down on the warm sand (the day was chilly, but the sand had a warming effect - heated by the sun). The touch of the sand called her from her sleep and her little eyes fluttered open and a huge grin broke out on her face. It was so sweet - she was just enchanted to awake to find the ocean in her ears and warm sand on her skin. She spent the rest of the afternoon throwing herself onto the sand, laughing almost madly and then running to the water to call out songs, hands spread in the air. Pure performance. Colette's work was more serious and her pyramids eventually took beautiful form, one hand checking the angle the whole while. With very few people around, it was a moment dangling in time - all our own.

A mountain of the famous salt, the "Sel de Camargue" produced here
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